


Recon

by MyCatWearsFlannel



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:21:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29854569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyCatWearsFlannel/pseuds/MyCatWearsFlannel
Summary: Reader is a company (wo)man sent to do reconnaissance in and around Dimitrescu Castle, but finds much more than she ever expected.
Relationships: Lady Dimitrescu (Resident Evil) & Female Reader, Lady Dimitrescu (Resident Evil) & Reader, Lady Dimitrescu (Resident Evil)/You
Comments: 17
Kudos: 144





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story will eventually be incredibly graphic kinkiness, but my brain demands plot as well. Also, this will not contain any nonconsensual stuff. Lady D will do plenty of kinky things to you, but she's gonna wants you to want it too.
> 
> Hopefully, I will update weekly but it is all dependent on my work/school schedule.
> 
> Enjoy!

You’re sitting in the back of the transit plane. You’re dropping into the location from pretty far out; the aircraft would be noticed at the remote village. That means you’re only bringing what you can carry. 

Cold air seeps in through the hatch you’ll step out of soon. A single red light near the exit dully illuminates your surroundings. You should be sleeping, but the anticipation always keeps you up. A couple small tugs at the harness holding you tightly to the side of the aircraft gives you enough space to breathe and lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees.

Light turbulence makes the assortment of buckles and netting holding all of the plane’s equipment start jingling. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You shouldn’t be here. Your unit, at least what was left of it, had been retired almost five years ago. You had almost gotten back to a normal life when the letter arrived.

A condition of your early retirement from “the Corp” was that you would present yourself, ready for duty, in the event of an emergency. 

_Apparently, recon in the middle of fucking nowhere constitutes an emergency_ , you think to yourself.

About a second of static crackles in your headset before a gruff voice says, “load up.” You lean ack against the cold padding of your seat and stretch out your legs. The cold wasn’t helping the stiffness that was deeply settled from the long ride. You unbuckle the chest harness and lean forward, arching your back as you reach up towards the ceiling.

“Let’s go, kiddo.”

You stand as Ops manager Caleb Freeman steps into the loading area. You worked with him for all of your hardest missions, and he had always gotten you out alive. His usual friendly and confident demeanor was noticeably absent this time. You do a quick check of your clothing; the stories of people getting killed through a series of events that started with an untucked bootlace have haunted you ever since your training days.

When you look up, Caleb still has his back to you as he unpacks and organizes different parts of your drop kit. The tension in his body is obvious. You take the time to appreciate his expert movements as he loads and secures everything you need and notice the grays starting to push their way up and back from his temples.

“Caleb.”

He doesn’t answer, but there is no doubt he heard you. He’s leaning into a large pack to get leverage to tighten a strap. You wipe your hands on your thighs, a nervous gesture. You turn around and grab a hard-shell case from the overhead storage. Inside is your thigh holster rated for jumps and a Makarov 9 mil. It fits your hand better than the standard Colt other agents use, and your team stopped laughing at its diminutive size once you had saved their asses a few times.

You busy yourself strapping the holster to your thigh and ensuring your pistol is properly secured.

“Am I going to die?”

A loud bang causes you to turn around. The pack Caleb was working on is on the floor and he is looking at you with his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Silence.

You don’t even realize you are holding your breath until you see him hold up three fingers on his right hand. You reach up and switch to channel 3 on your headset. Whatever Caleb wants to say, he doesn’t want anyone else to hear it. You hear him take a deep breath, and you do the same. His eyes are burning with passion, maybe even anger, but when he speaks you have to strain to hear each word forced through his clenched teeth.

“How can you ask me that? You were in the same brief as me, right? All other agents assigned to this region have gone MIA. And since when does the Corp give you the option to turn down an assignment? No back up, no planned exit, not a single piece of information about what is out there just a set of fucking coordinates, and you said ‘yes’? You deserve to die.”

You avert your eyes and fiddle with the strap on your gloves as you try to think of how to respond. You knew the mission was problematic, and if you hadn’t had such a hard time transitioning to a normal life after your forced retirement, you would have never accepted.

A warm hand clasps your shoulder, and you’re suddenly aware of how cold it is. At this proximity, Caleb’s 6’2 frame towers over you, and you can see the tension in the warm, dark skin of his face.

“Don’t go.”

“What?” You laugh nervously. You have never seen him act this way. “You’re just going to bring me back like ‘nah, she changed her mind.’ That’s not how this works, and you know it.”

“No, we will drop all of your gear like you jumped and I can hide you in here until we clear post-flight.”

You pull away from him.

“You sound crazy,” you hiss quietly, “they’ll kill us just for talking about this!”

“Please. Y/n, this isn’t even a suicide mission, it’s a sacrifice!”

The genuine fear in his eyes give you pause, but the thought of what the Corp would do to both of you if they ever found out banished any creeping doubts about whether or not to go through with this mission. The red bulb near the exit goes out and a second later is replaced by a brighter yellow glow signaling proximity to the jump site.

You sidestep Caleb and stride towards your gear. You step into the harness of your parachute and begin situating yourself as you speak.

“We’re already here. I already signed all the paperwork, so our only options are I die or _we_ die.”

You jump as you tighten your straps, a trick you learned from the man standing behind you.

“Your daughter graduates college this year, Caleb.”

The yellow light starts blinking. You need to hurry if you are going to make the drop point. The hike to the safehouse at the edge of the village is long enough without landing off target. You straighten your back and set your shoulders.

“Come help me load up.”


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting the kids, lol.
> 
> Chapter warnings: explicit language and violence, blood.

The safehouse at the edge of the village was hardly either of those; “safe” or “house” that is, but after nearly eighteen hours of drudging through the dense, wet forest you were grateful when it came into sight. Set into a small clearing, the house was dark and ominous. You set your gear down as gently as possible just outside of the clearing so you can make sure everything is secure before setting up.

After a quick check of the small clearing, you edge up next to a small window on the back of the building and peer through the hazy glass. There was only one large room that was sparsely furnished. That wasn’t surprising, but the fact that it was still full of your predecessors’ gear was. It looked like at least three sets of drop gear.

_How many people have they dumped in this shithole?_

You shake the thought from your head. You’re too tired to care. It looks secure. You trot back to the edge of the woods and awkwardly scoop up all of your gear, the majority of which gets dropped on the small front porch to dry. The old wooden door opens easily, and you feel a little bit of tension leave you as you secure it behind you. Secure or not, any shelter seems luxurious right now. The thin layer of dust on the leftover gear tells you that the villagers don’t know or care enough to disturb the small building.

_Hell, even I’d come steal some of this gear,_ you chuckle to yourself, really taking in your new home for the first time.

There was a small table pushed into a corner with a single chair, a cot set up in front of the modest fireplace hearth with a decent pile of firewood, and a massive heap of leftover gear.

_Nice._

You push the already open cot up against the closed door and quickly open your own with a few of the thinner layers of your sleep system. With a small fire building to keep you warm and light up the now dark cabin, you gingerly remove your boots and socks to assess the damage. A couple small blisters under each big toe and raw spots on the back of each ankle were the only spots you thought might need some care.

“Not bad,” you say to aloud, feeling proud of yourself for holding up so well.

“Considering how far out they drop you; it really is impressive.”

The unexpected voice from behind you propels you forward towards the fireplace, kicking the cot backwards toward the intruder you spin around to face them with the only weapon you could reach, a piece of firewood.

The cot skittered across the wooden floor to the left of the individual not even touching them, and they look rather unimpressed in general.

The woman is in a long black cloak with a hood and is completely still. Inhumanly still. The reflection of the fire dances in her eyes obscuring their color. Her empty hands hang at her sides. You don’t see any weapons. You return to her eyes. She’s just watching you watch her. The entire lower half of her face is covered in something dark and sticky looking.

_Christ, is that blood?_

The fire is starting to burn your skin from standing so close. You slowly edge to the right, never taking your eyes from the woman. The edges of her mouth pull upward slightly as she watches you move away.

“What exactly are you going to do with that little piece of wood,” she asks mockingly.

Her voice is sweet and melodic; it sets your teeth on edge.

“I’ll beat your fucking brains in if I have to,” you spit out through clenched teeth.

Laughter rings through the air causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand up.

“Now now…I enjoy a little profanity,” she says turning slightly to face you, “But not in front of my sisters.”

The woman takes a slow step forward and as she does two figures seem to materialize from the shadows behind her with identical cloaks and blood-smeared grins.

“Fuck, please…,” you whimper. 

“Aw, it’s cute how quickly you start to beg,” the first woman snarks, pretending to pout.

You can feel the fear and adrenaline starting to take over. The hand holding the piece of firewood starts shaking so you position it directly in front of yourself with both hands. You risk a quick glance at the door. The dusty cot is pressed against it, unmoved. There is no way you could move it and get out before they reach you. The cabin is too small, and the women obviously don’t have to follow the same physical rules as you.

A low growl emanating from one of the sisters draws your attention. She is maybe an inch or two shorter than the others with fairer hair. Whether it’s true or not, it makes her appear younger. Her lips are pulled back in a snarl and the fire glints off her sharp white teeth. When you look back to her eyes, they are completely black.

_What is happening?_

You are experiencing time dilation and by the time you realize it, it’s too late.

“Don’t!”

The first sister is yelling, and by the time it hits your ears, the younger sister has you pressed against the wall and her teeth are around your collarbone. You hear your own screaming and smell your own blood before the pain hits you. The younger sister’s grip is like steel; you can’t move at all. Her top teeth sink in farther above your collarbone while her lower ones grind upwards. She’s moaning, and you’re still screaming. This moment feels like forever. You reach up to grab her cloak, but you are suddenly hitting the floor.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Daniella!” 

It’s the first sister. You see her holding the younger one to the floor and you decide to take advantage of the chaos. Using the wall, you get to your feet and lunge towards the door. You fling the old cot to the side but immediately get slammed face-first to the into the back of the door. Your head is rocked by the blow and your knees give out. The third sister’s body is the only thing holding you up.

Darkness is dancing at the edges of your vision. The warmth of your blood running down your chest and stomach contrasts with the chill now settling in your body. The third sister presses her face into your neck and breathes deeply. Goosebumps erupt all over your body and she chuckles.

“You smell _so_ good,” she whispers.

You push against the door with every last ounce of strength, but she doesn’t even budge. A fresh flow of blood washes over your chest from the sudden effort. The blackness is closing in quickly. The first sister is still yelling at Daniella.

“…gonna explain this? Huh?! Not me, Daniella!”

A wave of nausea hits you.

“This is exactly why we didn’t want to bring you along! How fucking old are you?”

You’re falling.

“…sick of cleaning up your shit. Mother’s gonna kill me…”

_Mother?_


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet Lady Dimitrescu and have a surprisingly honest conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I'm not trying to slow-burn this, but it is what it is. This chapter is about three times longer than the others, so be prepared for that. Enjoy!

****************

Your consciousness comes back slowly. You feel warm. You’re laying somewhere soft. It definitely isn’t your cot. A deep ache has settled in across your entire body. Your mind is hazy.

_They drugged me._

A deep breath draws warm, heavily scented air into your lungs. Perfume and wine. The light scent of a burning fire. You open your eyes as you exhale. Rich gold and burgundy drapes surround the dark wood of the canopy bed. A fire crackles somewhere out of sight. Gently turning your head to the right provides you with your first look at “the Tall Woman.” That’s how she was referred to in your briefings, and it was quite the understatement.

About ten feet from the edge of the bed, a woman is casually stretched on a chaise lounge; her face is obscured by a book and allows you the chance to take in the full image of her. Modest heels adorn her feet hanging slightly over the edge of the chair. She had at some point slid her the heel of her foot out of one and languidly toyed with the shoe hanging from her toes. Shapely legs, slightly bent at the knee, are covered by the slick satin of her white dress.

The Tall Woman shifts her position, so she is on her side facing you. Your heart is racing, but the book never moves from in front of her face. You release a slow breath as she turns the page and settles in.

This view provides you with full view of the woman’s body. Full hips tapering towards her waist before the swell of her ribcage begins. She has a soft, classic hourglass shape that suits her frame. The dress is bunched below her breasts, and the neckline is taut thanks to her recent adjustment. Her skin is like porcelain on the full breasts you can’t seem to pull your eyes from. Your mouth is suddenly dry. You lick your lips and swallow loudly.

_She’s gorgeous._

“Finished?”

Your gaze darts upwards, and you gasp as you make contact with bright golden eyes for the first time. Alcina Dimitrescu had placed her book down on the arm of the chair and is now looking at you with great amusement with one perfectly shaped eyebrow slightly raised.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer quickly. Your face flashes with heat as you realize you were just caught blatantly staring at her cleavage.

Her deep laugh fills the air as she lifts herself into an upright sitting position. She reaches down and slides her shoe back into place before rising to her full height. Your breath catches in your throat. Until now, it had never fully registered exactly how tall 9 feet, 6 inches really is. The woman before you is a titan.

She quickly steps to the edge of the bed and sits delicately next to your feet facing you. She is still smiling, eyes dancing with the delight of your predicament. She reaches down and caresses your cheek with the back of her index finger. Her skin is cool to the touch, and you let out an involuntary sigh.

“My sweet girl, you have done nothing for which you should feel embarrassed.”

The formality of her language feels so foreign, but her gentle words and touch calm you despite your best efforts. The drugs in your system keep you from feeling fully alert, and that scares you.

“Although…,” the Tall Woman lowers her voice to just above a whisper, “it is usually the men who get caught staring at my breasts.”

She is really enjoying this moment of teasing you. If it weren’t for the pain thrumming through your skull and beginning to radiate from your clavicle, you probably would be, too. Instead of playing along or looking for an exit, you settle deeper into the pillow and close your eyes. Everything is just…too much right now.

The cool hand is back at the side of your face before quickly moving to your forehead. You open your eyes to see a look of concern pulling at the woman’s delicate features.

“You are very warm, even for a human. How are you feeling,” she asks, bringing her palm down to cup the side of your face.

“Like I was attacked by a pack of wild dogs- “

No sooner were the words out of your mouth than you were pressed back against the bed. The Tall Woman had pushed her first two fingers into your mouth. Her second knuckles were at your lips, but her long fingers applied pressure along the length of your tongue pinning it to the floor of your mouth and teasing your gag reflex. You instinctively move to bring your hands to the woman’s wrist, but a low rumble from deep within her chest stops you. Your hands drop to the bed and grip the sheets, bracing for whatever is about to happen.

You focus on the Tall Woman’s features as emotions roil beneath the surface and she visibly reigns them in.

“Now…,” she growls through clenched teeth, “I have a long list of reasons to keep you alive and intact, not the least of which is the relative prestige that comes with having one of the very few remaining bait humans in my care.”

You mind is racing. _Bait?_ Your eyes are drawn to the woman’s jaw, the muscles working under the surface bely the unreadable mask of her face. The fingers in your mouth move a little deeper and you are forced to control your breathing to prevent gagging. Then, withdrawing them a little bit, she parts her fingers and presses them down under your tongue. Now slightly bent, the fingers hook painfully into your lower jaw and she pulls you forward.

“But the next time you insult my daughters, I will make sure they are the last words you ever speak. Understood?”

She has now pulled you to the point of lifting your head entirely from the pillow and tears are forming in your eye from the pressure of her fingers on the very sensitive nerves in your mouth. You bring both hands to her wrist, but the grip on your jaw is like a vice. Golden eyes glint in the low light as a tear makes its way down the side of your face.

“You are stubborn, but I like you,” she sounds slightly bored, “Just nod already so I don’t have to break your jaw.”

Your heart is pounding; you feel it pulsing in your jaw and are sure she can feel it too. Sharp teeth peek from behind darkly painted lips as she smirks at you. You don’t doubt her willingness to hurt you. You curtly nod and she immediately releases you. You fall back on the bed and instantly bring your hands to your jaw. The pain is minimal but the feeling of helplessness that came from being so thoroughly and easily controlled has you deeply unsettled.

The Tall Woman is standing near a small vanity wiping her hands with a white handkerchief. 

“There are a few rules which will be in place for the duration of your stay here, the first of which you just learned. I will not abide poor manners or any form of disrespect towards me, my daughters, or any of the other residents of this castle.”

She drops the piece of cloth onto the vanity and turns to face you.

“So, moving forward, you will address me as ‘Lady Dimitrescu’ or ‘my Lady.’ If you come across a locked door, respect that. It is locked for a reason. And finally,” she takes as step towards the bed, “you are _far_ from the top of the food chain here. Act accordingly.”

Her eyes are blazing as she stares deeply into your own, emphasizing the gravity of what she is telling you. You return the gaze, acutely aware of how easily your spark of life could be snuffed out by the woman looming over you.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes, my Lady,” you respond without hesitation.

“Good girl,” she purrs.

She smoothly pulls the vanity’s seat from beneath it and seats herself near the edge of the bed.

“Now we need to discuss your wound. Your presence in that alleged safehouse tells me that you are not unfamiliar with the realities of the progenitor virus. Your level of exposure was very high, and without intervention it will kill you.”

Lady Dimitrescu’s eyes are soft, her concern genuine. You push yourself into a full sitting position for the first time and begin to feel lightheaded. She moves quickly to steady you and only removes her hand once she’s sure you are settled.

“No,” you say shaking your head, “I’m immune to the virus.”

She quirks an eyebrow.

“Dear, there is no broad-spectrum vaccine. We can only synthesize targeted antivirals and inoculations. Even this is fairly new. There is no way you are immune.”

“Maybe here, but I got it ten years ago from the Corp-,“ you stop abruptly.

_Fuck, did I just out myself?_

The Tall Woman is chuckling to herself and with the wave of a hand says, “Continue. You have not revealed some great secret. Your employers have been dropping agents into this village for decades, including several since you received this alleged vaccine. If such a thing exists, why would they send so many without it?”

_Good question._

“I-,” you falter, “I don’t know, my Lady.”

She leans forward resting her elbows on her knees, dark lips pursed with thought. Her full breasts catch your gaze again, but you quickly avert your eyes, the sting of embarrassment fresh in your memory.

“Hm,” perfectly shaped eyebrows are drawn together, “Ten years ago…that’s shortly after the first bait humans appeared; you must have been in one of the last groups before the program ended. Did you receive this vaccine before or after your alterations?”

You sit in stunned silence. She used that phrase again, ‘bait human.’ Lady Dimitrescu is looking at you and waiting for an answer, but you don’t have one. Staring into her pensive eyes you can’t help but feel compelled to tell the truth. She has information that you don’t. 

“I’m not sure what alterations you are talking about. I’ve never even heard the phrase ‘bait human’ before.”

A flicker of something crosses the Tall Woman’s face, confusion or concern maybe, but it’s gone in an instant, swallowed by that impenetrable mask of hers. She remains silent, waiting for you to continue or elaborate. You take a deep breath and begin.

“As a young agent I survived several…precarious missions and gained a reputation for being able to keep myself and my team members alive. A couple years after I was hired, my team leader told me I had been chosen to receive an experimental vaccine that would provide a non-zero level of protection against the virus. Something is better than nothing, right? So, I agreed.”

“Tell me about the inoculation itself.”

Lady Dimitrescu is watching you intently, a look of disbelief suspended behind her eyes. You clear your throat and continue.

“I don’t know much about the science behind it. We all had to give blood and bone marrow samples beforehand. They said it was personalized because the first iteration had not been effective across the board. It was a course of six shots over a year, and the side effects were terrible. It felt like we were dying and being remade…a couple people did die but most made a full recovery.”

The Tall Woman is staring at the wall directly in front of her with her hand over her mouth. No one emotion is discernable on her face. After a few seconds, you break the silence.

“My Lady…”

She is shaking her head and slowly sweeps her eyes over your body before speaking.

“They never told you.” It’s a whisper. “And they have the nerve to call us monsters.”

She stands abruptly and pushes as small button on the vanity, a bell rings in the distance. Then she moves across the room out of sight.

_What the fuck is happening?_

You feel hot and the lightheadedness is getting worse. You grab the edge of the blanket covering you and flip it back. 

_I’m naked,_ you realize for the first time. A sharp jolt of pain draws your attention to the thick bandages covering the wound caused by the young vampire, Daniella. Dark red and black branch-like structures beneath the skin have pushed halfway down your arm and across your chest. In a moment of impulsivity, you reach up and pull the bandage off. It is difficult to see the wound itself, but you don’t have to. The smell of infection and rot hits your nose quickly. You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, leaning forward and away from the wound, to try to catch your breath.

Lady Dimitrescu returns carrying a glass and a pitcher of water. She lengthens her stride when she sees you and places the items on the vanity. She takes her place again on the seat, now directly in front of you. She spreads her legs slightly, placing a knee on either side of you, to draw as close as possible. Sitting on the edge of the tall bed, this is the closest you’ve been to eye-level with the formidable woman, but you can’t make yourself meet her gaze.

“May I,” she asks quietly. 

You glance up and see she is holding a damp cloth. You aren’t sure exactly what she wants to do, but you nod anyway.

A cool, strong hand is placed on your non-injured shoulder and gently turns you, so the festering wound is presented. The cloth is ice-cold, and you gasp when she presses it firmly against you. Two small droplets of water are forced out from the pressure and make different paths down your chest. The pressure hurts, but you lean into it anyway. At least it feels real and gives you something to focus on.

Lady Dimitrescu starts to speak but stops. She licks her lips, appearing to gather her thoughts, and starts again.

“A ‘bait human’ is one whose DNA has been altered so that they begin to emit pheromones. Specifically, those that attract individuals infected and altered by the progenitor virus. It was a slow and painful process that consisted of extracting DNA, altering it, and then reintroducing it in a way that would ensure duplication and total replacement.”

She pauses to fold the cloth and press a new, fresh section to the wound. You are searching her face for any hint of emotion or sign of detection. Her eyes remain fixed on the cloth.

“The intent was to use the altered humans to draw out infected. Then it would be easy to cull them, but the pheromones were too strong, the alteration too effective. Instead of waving a steak in front of a hungry tiger, it was like waving one steak in front of every hungry tiger within a ten-mile radius. Eradication teams and their ‘bait humans’ were quickly and consistently overwhelmed. Eventually we stopped seeing those teams all together. We just assumed they had all been killed…but here you are.”

She drapes the cloth over your shoulder and shifts her hand to the middle of your chest to continue supporting your weight as she pours a glass of water. When she turns back, she meets your eyes, and you see an emotion you do recognize: pity. Your ego bristles at the idea, roaring to life out of its tranquilized haze. You lift yourself away from Lady Dimitrescu’s hand, and she immediately responds.

“Do not pull away from me. Being deceived is not a failure of judgement on your part; it is a failure of morality on the part of your employer.”

She gently places her hand on top of yours on the bed and for a few seconds, leaves it there while looking deeply into your defiant eyes. You feel your gaze soften at the unspoken communication. She is not a mere witness to your pain, but a companion in it. She lifts your hand and places the glass into it.

“Drink it all. It has been days since you have last taken anything.”

As if on cue, the door opens and two women enter, each carrying a tray with a cloche. They place the trays on a low table near the fireplace and leave without saying a word. You slowly drain the contents of the glass while Lady Dimitrescu resumes speaking.

“I am sorry you had to hear this from me. The alteration does provide some small measure of protection against the virus, but as you can see,” she gestures towards your shoulder, “it is not enough for this level of exposure. We have an antiviral and inoculation isolated from my own blood. It is effective but not without side effects. I wish I could provide you with a better choice. Unfortunately, your options are taking the medication or dying.”

She pauses to refill the now empty glass and hands it back to you.

“I cannot change your options, but I will respect your decision whichever it may be.”

“Well, I don’t want to die,” you say matter-of-factly.

The Tall Woman smiles, “I am glad your decision came so quickly.”

“I do have a question though, if that’s okay…my Lady.”

Her full attention is on you and she looks deeply into your eyes as she answers, “I will answer any and all questions you have, especially as it pertains to your health and safety.”

You are perplexed by the intensity of her answer but push ahead regardless.

“You keep saying antivirals _and_ an inoculation. Do I need both? Are you planning on further exposure?”

“Ha! If I had fed recently, it would be my turn to blush.”

The sudden sound startles you, but Lady Dimitrescu is laughing as if she’s been caught. The delight brightens her whole face, and you find yourself smiling back.

“I am a little ashamed to admit this but keeping you here has certainly crossed my mind,” she looks up searching your face for any sign of fear or anger.

There is none. Your heart is racing, but the thought of staying with the statuesque vampire does not inspire fear. 

_She’s been more honest in one conversation than people I’ve known my entire life._

Golden eyes dance with amusement and draw you in.

_She is beautiful._

She stands and walks to the table with the trays, gesturing for you to follow. You look down at the floor. It’s far. You carefully slide down the edge of the bed, but your feet hit the floor hard. Your knees buckle, but before you can hit the ground, the woman is there gently holding you up. She moved so quickly you didn’t see or hear it. She smoothly slides a thin robe over your arms; she must have grabbed it on the way over. After ensuring your stability, she stands up straight. For the first time you get to witness her true height. The top of your head barely reaches the top crest of her hip.

She carefully steps forwards towards the table and beckons for you to follow. You do so despite weak knees that have nothing to do with the impact from sliding off the bed. Alcina Dimitrescu rounds the table and removes the covers to reveal a tray with a bowl of broth and bread and another with a short, wide bottle of wine and a glass. She bends at the waist to inspect the food and, for the second time, catches you watching her breasts as she moves. This time she just smiles.

“Come join me for dinner, Dear.”

And you do.


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Biology is starting to get the best of Lady Dimitrescu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just quickly want to apologize for being a little late on this chapter, but life happens. 
> 
> Thank you all for the amazing comments and so many kudos! I didn't think so many people would be interested in reading this. Just know that I too have very little knowledge of the Resident Evil universe that this is supposed to be set in, so if you notice something that doesn't line up, that's why.
> 
> Anyway, enough rambling. Things are starting to heat up. Enjoy!

***************************************************

**Chapter Three**

Nearly three weeks had passed since Lady Dimitrescu started you on a series of antiviral treatments to counteract the damage caused by one of her daughters. Since then, the Tall Woman had made herself scarce. The administration of a castle was proving significantly more time consuming that you would have assumed. It was the third day without seeing the woman at all, not that you were counting.

Shortly after your treatment began, some of your clothing and personal items were retrieved from the safe house. This enables you create a little bit of normalcy that includes wearing your own clothes and using your own toothbrush, but you are still on the verge of insanity from the isolation. No matter how nice the surroundings, they feel like prison at this point.

Sometimes at night you would awaken to see bright eyes glowing in the darkness from across the room. Silent. Watching. Before you could wake enough to call out or address her, she would disappear. It was like she could just blink in and out of existence. You were starting to feel like you had somehow offended your host.

Suddenly, she is behind you while you stand at a window that looks out onto a small courtyard. You don’t move or address her in anyway. You feel her shift, gently sweeping the smooth fabric of her dress across your back as if to alert you to her presence without startling you. She hasn’t been this close to you in weeks. You lift your eyes to meet hers in the reflection of the window. A slender finger traces your jawline carefully. Golden eyes hold you in place for what seems like an eternity before she speaks.

“We need to talk.”

“So, let’s talk,” you say pulling your eyes from hers to look out the window once more.

Lady Dimitrescu sighs, and you know your tone has told her exactly what your state of mind is after being locked up for the better part of a month. The hand now resting on your shoulder lifts and you see the Tall Woman’s reflection gesture towards the chaise lounge.

“Sit.”

It was not a request. You turn and, without looking up, make your way to the requested area.

“I’d rather stand, my Lady.”

“Suit yourself,” she says as she settles herself at the opposite end of the lounge.

_That’s not good._

You’re watching her closely now. She’s fussing over the lay of her dress and avoiding eye contact. Tension pulls at your chest as you wait for her to begin. Finally, she looks at you. Her bright eyes rake across your body and eventually settle below your face.

_She’s staring at my neck._

The thought makes goosebumps raise across your body. A smile pulls gently at the corners of Lady Dimitrescu’s mouth as she watches you fight the conflicting emotions in your body.

“Am I making you nervous, dear?”

“No.”

Your immediate, terse response causes her eyes to flick upwards, briefly meeting your own before settling back in their lower position. A low growl sounds from somewhere deep in her chest, and she pulls her eyes away from you towards the window where you were standing a moment ago. It was very a physical effort on her part, and now you are feeling a little nervous.

“The antivirals seem to have done their job, so I believe it is time to begin your inoculations.”

She doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, just stares pointedly out the window.

“Okay,” you shrug, “Is that all?”

Muscles in her temple and jaw visibly tighten.

“I need to move you to a different room. Your pheromones have become unbearable, and I deserve to spend time in my own quarters.”

You release a sharp laugh of disbelief that causes the women’s eyes to snap back to you.

“You’re saying I stink? You don’t spend enough time in here to even notice.”

“I thought you would be pleased to finally be rid of my presence based on the reception you have given me as of late,” she spits out with palpable annoyance.

“I must have lost some of my social skills during solitary confinement.”

Your sarcasm evokes an immediate response. Lady Dimitrescu stretches across the length of the chaise in an instant. You are pulled through the air by the front of your shirt until you are standing unsteadily on the cushioned seat next to her. Her right hand holds tightly to your shirt while you struggle and the left grips your chin like a vice. You stare into her eyes for as long as you can as she slowly lifts your head back and to the side, exposing a long expanse of your neck to her.

Your hands are instinctively drawn to the hand gripping your shirt. You aren’t struggling; that is useless. You just hold on tightly, bracing yourself for whatever comes next. You can’t see Lady Dimitrescu anymore. Your neck is forced back as far as it will go. You shut your eyes against the tears forming from the extreme tension. Another low growl emanates from the woman. You feel her move and then suddenly her nose is brushing against the side of your face. Her lips settle near your ear as she takes a deep breath.

“Yes, how _dare_ I save your life,” she whispers through clenched teeth, “and how dare I _continue_ to protect you from my daughters who have proven to have so much less restraint than myself.”

Goosebumps return and this time Lady Dimitrescu drags her lips down your neck to your now exposed collarbone savoring the feeling as you body reacts involuntarily. A low whine is all you can manage when she presses her lips more firmly against your skin. A deep ache reminds you of the recent injury to the skin once against exposed.

_A bite from her would snap my collarbone like a twig._

The unwanted thought sends a spike of fear through you and your heart beats even faster. The Tall Woman pulls away.

“Fear?” She chuckles, “Finally, an appropriate response from you.”

She releases her grip on your chin but continues to hold your shirt. You are nearly at eye level with her, and when your gaze meets hers you are shocked to see her eyes glowing as if lit from within. These are the eyes that watch you from the darkness before disappearing soundlessly, not the warm glittering hues of the woman who tended your wounds. A single tear makes its way down your face. Before it reaches your jaw, the Tall Woman pull you close and licks the droplet away. You recoil instinctively from the cool, wet muscle.

“Good girl,” she purrs.

A bright smile on Lady Dimitrescu’s face belies the intensity of the situation. From this close distance, her teeth look whiter, sharper somehow. You can’t look away. A slight shiver starts in your body as the adrenaline settles in uncomfortably.

“You have significantly underestimated the impact your alterations are having. I can smell you. Always. I can feel your body heat from halfway across the castle. I have dreams about you.”

She pauses, the smile slowly fading from her face. She continues, but now it seems more like she is talking to herself than addressing you.

“It has been more than fifty years since my last dream, and then…”

You swallow audibly in the silence, and suddenly her attention is intensely focused on you again. She releases the front of your shirt to snake her arm around your back and pull you closer to her body. Her left hand again raises, this time settling gently on the back of your neck easily spanning the expanse from one side to the other with her palm.

_Her eyes are definitely glowing now_ , you think as she scrutinizes every inch of your face closely.

“Do I want to fuck you or kill you?”

She is talking to herself again. The question makes your heart jump back into your throat. This is your first time hearing her curse, and it doesn’t feel like a good thing. Sharp teeth pull gently at her lower lip while she considers her options. Your knees feel weak, and the close proximity limits your ability to find solid support other than the woman currently contemplating your fate. You hesitate for only a second before reaching out and placing your hand flat against Lady Dimitrescu’s chest to keep yourself from falling into her. The contact seems to snap her from her reverie.

In an instant you are looking at the dull shine of the hammered copper ceilings. Your mind takes a second to process the impact of both the hand that pushed you away so suddenly and the solid cushion against your back on the opposite side of the chaise. You push yourself up onto your elbows and see the Tall Woman standing at the window, gripping the frame on either side.

“I do _not_ like losing control,” she growled quietly.

You take a deep breath and ease yourself back into a laying position as you release it. There are a million thoughts running through your head; your heart is racing.

“In the past, I have helped other agents separate themselves from the Corp, creating new identities and lives so they do not keep finding themselves in situations like this.”

You close your eyes thinking, _Here it comes._

“Let me do this for you. You cannot stay here.”

A month ago, a week ago, or even this morning you would have jumped at the opportunity, but now…now something is different. You hear movement and the cushion near your feet sinks with Lady Dimitrescu’s weight. You don’t open your eyes.

“I will hurt you if you stay.”

_What is this feeling?_

Your chest is tight, and you swing your legs over the edge of the chaise, raising yourself into a sitting position without opening your eyes. Your elbows press sharply into your thighs as you push your palms into your closed eyes.

“Say something.”

You slide off the chaise and lean against it for support, looking at the fireplace. 

“I’m afraid of what I’ll say,” you say.

A sigh of exasperation is forced through her nose and she asks, “What does that _mean_ , dear?”

The fire crackles and you watch as a few small sparks shoot upwards before disappearing entirely.

_What am I doing?_

A slight creak from the chaise and then the back of a cool hand slides across your cheek before gently cupping your chin and turning you to face still glowing eyes.

“My sweet girl, your heart is racing. Tell me,” she’s cooing softly in an attempt to calm you, but your entire body feels like it’s on fire. Her skin on yours is the only thing keeping you grounded in this moment. Dark red lips are slightly parted as she watches you with anticipation.

_Does she know what I’m about to say?_

You take a deep breath.

“What if I want you to hurt me, my Lady?”

Her eyes widen. She opens her mouth like she is going to say something but closes it again soundlessly. She starts to pull her hand away from your face, but you quickly reach up and grab her wrist. She lets you move her hand back to where it was. The thumb that had been resting on your cheek presses firmly against your lips. You press back, parting your lips slightly. The Tall Woman’s eyes are burning into your own. It feels like she can see straight into your mind, but she looks confused.

“Do you want to die?” Her voice waivers slightly. You can’t decipher the emotion. She pulls her hand from your face and this time you are unable to stop her.

“No, but I don’t want to leave either.”

“I cannot keep you safe. Your pheromones are too strong. I underestimated this. If you stay, I will feed from you. I cannot stop it. Do you understand? All of the effort I have put into not being the monster everyone thinks I am is wasted if you stay,” her voice increased from a whisper to a fervent declaration.

Tears are prickling your eyes, threatening to overtake your composure before a thought strikes you.

“Wait,” you’re puzzled and take a step towards her, “Are you saying you don’t feed from humans?”

Hands that had been carefully clasped in her lap are thrown in the air with frustration at the sudden change of topic.

“I –,” she cuts herself off and then starts again seeming annoyed, “This is a complicated matter. I feed at every opportunity that is presented to me but never from a one who is unwilling. Humans are so fragile that one slip or miscalculation ends in death. Volunteers are hard to come by…”

She is looking at her hands, which are now back in her lap. You feel emboldened and take another step forward to place your hand on her knee.

“I volun—”

“No,” she cuts you off immediately.

“Why?” Your frustration is getting the better of you causing you to your raise your voice.

Glowing eyes flash dangerously back to you.

“Because it has been more than a year since I last tasted blood from a living being and even if you were already vaccinated my bite may kill you! I am liable to tear your body apart like a paper doll the instant I smell your blood.”

Your face is turned upward in disbelief at what you just heard.

_How can she go so long without feeding?_ So much of this was completely at odds with information from the Corp.

“How…” You can’t even form a question, but she answers, nonetheless.

“You mistakenly believe that your life is only contained within you, dear. In reality, every human lives in their own little sphere of life that exudes from you; your breath, your heat, the respiration of your skin, and so much more is all a part of it. Being close to humans is enough to extend the time between feedings. Your skin breathes and—”

Lady Dimitrescu stops suddenly and stands. With a few quick steps she is in the center of the large room, but quickly turns back. Her hand is over her mouth, and she appears deep in thought. Several seconds pass, and you are about to say something when she suddenly speaks.

“There may be a way…”

She steps swiftly towards you and softly drops to one knee, gripping your face and forcing you to look deeply into her eyes.

“I will not feed unless I believe that you are genuine in wanting to participate. Not doing so will not bring any penalty. You can stay without doing this. It will not change the nature of our relationship if you say no. Do you understand?”

You glance to the side, feeling uncomfortable under her intense gaze, but she immediately responds.

“Don’t look away. If you have any reservations, you must say so now,” her face softens as she adds, “I care for your wellbeing and not just as my next meal.”

She finishes speaking with a quick wink that makes blood rush to your cheeks. Painted lips draw up into a smile at your stunned look. She is suddenly the charming woman you met weeks ago before she began isolating herself from you. You were sure before but now you are something very close to excited.

“I want this,” you say with conviction.

The full radiant smile that erupts across her face catches you off-guard and you instinctively match it. Lady Dimitrescu cups your face with both of her hands, fingers touching behind your head.

“I like when you smile,” she says earnestly before rising to her full height.

Fingers linger under your chin for a moment before she strides towards the large bathroom attached to her chambers. She disappears into the other room only briefly before poking her head around the door to look at you quizzically.

“Come along, dear. Unless you have changed your mind…” The sentence trails off, but the grin on her face tells you she knows better.

Lady Dimitrescu slides out of sight once more, and you break into a jog as you cross the room, eager to find out what she has in store for you.


End file.
